


A Thousand Lovers and Me

by misura



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Fall Fandom Free For All, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It's quite probably the second best year of Kate's life.</i> (Kate, Neal and Mozzie in the early days)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Lovers and Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [veleda_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/veleda_k/gifts).



> prompt: _Neal/Kate pre-series. Show me a time when they were young, happy, and in love._
> 
> Mozzie just sort of ... showed up and hitched a ride?

Neal falls in love with people the way Mozzie falls in love with conspiracy theories. It's a little odd and it takes a while to get used to, but once she does, Kate decides it's also kind of cute.

She's not used to feeling like she's coming in second place - and when they're on a job, when it's her and Neal and Mozzie and a mark (or sometimes, just someone who might be useful to know, not even anyone _important_ ), she's not sure if she even ranks second. Mozzie's known Neal longer, and on some nights, they'll be working on some painting and Mozzie will say something like _'this reminds me of that time with that guy in Moscow'_ and Neal will laugh and make a joke about a beard, and Kate will sit there sipping her wine and thinking: _'how about letting me in on the joke, guys?'_.

It never seems to occur to Neal she might be feeling a little left out.

It never seems to occur to Neal when he tells Sue or May or Rebecca that she looks lovely in blue or green or red that Kate might mind that he hasn't told _her_ she looks more than lovely in black or white. (And she _does_ ; Kate may not be prettier than every single one of the women Neal dates, but she sure as hell is smarter, and she knows Neal is attracted to that.)

The thing that really gets to her though is that it never, _ever_ seems to occur to Neal that she might just pack up her bags and _leave_. After the first weeks, when he sent her flowers every day and showed her all his favorite places to have breakfast, lunch, dinner or late-night icecream in Los Angeles, it stops feeling like he's wooing her and starts feeling like he's taking her for granted.

Kate tells herself she'd be an idiot to walk away just because of that. Neal is _good_ , possibly the best conman she's ever met, and unlike others she could name, he doesn't cheat the people he works with.

 

Neal is off doing who-knows-what, and Mozzie is reading some kind of tattered magazine with a picture of Elvis shaking hands with a tentacle monster on the cover. He doesn't seem to take much notice of her, or of the fact she's carrying two bags.

There's a bottle of Bordeaux on the table, still half-full, two glasses standing next to it.

She pours herself a glass because she can, and because she can leave any time, regardless of whether or not Neal is there to see it. "Elvis is alive and being held for ransom by aliens?"

Mozzie looks at her like she's an unwelcome distraction, then smiles in a way that wouldn't fool anyone. "Would you like to make a contribution to the fund? For a high enough contribution, I can promise you a personal visit by The King himself."

"People actually fall for that?" Kate snorts. The wine tastes expensive.

Mozzie shrugs non-committal. "It's all about your presentation. But no, generally speaking, people don't fall for something like that - if only because they first need to be reminded who Elvis was, again. Saying it's for Britney Spears works nicely though."

"And leaving out the aliens, I assume."

"People seem oddly disinclined to believe that aliens would be interested in money." Mozzie''s gesture seems to imply the human race is a mystery to him. "The only problem is the pay-off, of course. I'm simply not very comfortable in a school-girl's uniform."

"Wait, what?" Kate's glass is empty. She holds it up for a refill.

Mozzie obligingly pours some more wine for her, filling her glass almost to the rim. He's holding the bottle exactly the same way Neal does, all grace and elegance. It looks natural on Neal. On Mozzie, it looks out of place. "With the guy who wanted to see Elvis, it was easier. Neal and me drew straws for that one; I got to be the Elvis impersonator who got approached by the aliens, and Neal got to be Elvis, rejuvenated thanks to alien technology. We even did a few songs together, and it was, well, it wasn't a bad job. We've done worse, for a lot less than ten-thousand dollars. Britney Spears, on the other hand ... "

"You're kidding me."

"Not at all." Mozzie picks up the bottle and finds it near-empty. "Ask Neal about it, if you don't believe me. Or talk him into going to a karaoke bar. He's really quite good. Got that whole hip thing down pat."

Kate can't picture Neal as an imitator of Elvis. She doesn't even _want_ to picture him as Britney Spears, except that a small part of her wonders if he could really pull it off, if he's really that ... crazy?

Mozzie might be joking about that part. He might be joking about all of it.

"I don't even know if there _are_ any karaoke bars in this town."

"Oh yes - he took Trisha to one of them Tuesday night." Mozzie looks at the empty bottle, then at the clock. "Guess he's going to pull another all-nighter."

Just like that, the conversation stops being funny, if perhaps a little strange. "You mean he's sleeping with her." They've already pulled off the con; they've got the money. Neal should be here, with Kate - and with Mozzie next door.

Mozzie's expression is hidden by the magazine. "I doubt there's a lot of sleeping going on," he says.

 

Kate's pride won't let her walk out on someone who doesn't even realize that _she is walking out on him_. That's not how things happen around Kate. When she's angry or maybe even hurt, just enough to put an edge on her anger, people _notice_. Especially the people responsible.

Neal doesn't seem to think they need to talk about Trisha. He doesn't seem to think they need to talk about Ann, or Darla, or Marlene. In less than a year, they travel all across the US and wherever they go, Neal finds them a job to pull off, a work of art for him to lovingly copy and for Mozzie and her to switch for an original, or sell to a too gullible buyer who wants to make a quick buck by buying an original masterpiece for barely a hundredth of its real value.

It's quite probably the second best year of Kate's life.

 

"We're pulling out," Neal says, and for one dizzying moment, Kate thinks he's saying they've been busted, that one of them has slipped up and given the game away.

Mozzie nods as if he's been expecting this kind of announcement. "What?" Kate's voice sounds too shrill. She _thinks_ she hasn't made any mistakes, but then, if not her, then who? Neal's too good and Mozzie is - well, Mozzie is almost as good as Neal, sometimes better. Kate's the weak link in this team, the odd one out. "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing." Neal shrugs. "I just don't think we should go through with this one, that's all."

"Guy in New Orleans has found some really old records in his attic - talks about donating them to a museum. Might be worth a look." Mozzie seems to think there's nothing wrong with leaving a job half-done, with letting weeks of hard work and research and preparation come to nothing.

Neal looks interested - more than interested, in fact. "Old _jazz_ records?"

"Would I be mentioning it to you if they were any other kind?" Mozzie's expression is pleased, though.

"Sure you would - a job is a job, after all." Neal's smile is absent.

"I don't understand why we can't finish _this_ job first," Kate says.

Neal sighs, looks at Mozzie. Mozzie shrugs. "Because it would be wrong. It's - " Neal shakes his head. "I can't explain it better than that. Rita simply doesn't deserve someone stealing from her right now." And just like that, he's out of the door. Off to say goodbye to Rita, no doubt.

"We're pulling out because Neal says we're pulling out," Mozzie tells her.

Kate's getting that feeling again, that she's not a part of them, nor will ever be. "Do you _ever_ disagree with him?"

"Frequently." Mozzie smiles. "I'm just more subtle about letting it show. In fact, I often don't let it show at all. People tend to be much more agreeable to your suggestions when they think you agree with them, you know. Well, of course you know - you're one of us, after all. Beauty _and_ brains."

 

Kate starts paying more attention to Neal and Mozzie's conversations after that - she still doesn't get all the references, but she's perfectly capable of keeping track of a conversation about a subject she knows nothing about, waiting for a useful bit of information.

She begins to notice the way Neal's plans change sometimes, after a night of talking with Mozzie about French painters, or German sculptors, or Italian poets. She never quite catches the moment when Mozzie says to Neal: _'this is the part of your plan I disagree with and this is what I think you should change about it'_ , but she's beginning to get a feeling for Neal's moods, the small signs that give away what he really thinks about something.

Neal disagrees with Mozzie on occasion, too. They never argue that she can see or hear or notice signs of, but on some days and nights, they're more in sync with one another, more likely to perfectly follow each other's thoughts.

Getting Neal to do something he hasn't planned on is like running a con, Kate thinks. You can't be too direct or too pushy; you've got to be subtle about it. You've got to make him _want_ it.

 

"Do you love me?"

Mozzie chokes on his cornflakes. Neal lowers the newspaper to look at her in a way that reminds her of Mozzie; a slightly unpersonal taking of interest, a _'who are you and what are you doing here?'_.

"Sorry," Neal says, "was that a question for me or for Mozzie?"

"I'm not involved in this conversation," Mozzie says quickly. "And oh, will you look at the time? I'd better hurry or they'll start the morning cartoons without me."

Their apartment has got two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room. It's less luxurious than a hotel, but it's also less conspicious. And Kate likes having Neal cook for her, sometimes. He's a good cook. She's not sure if there's anything he's _not_ good at.

"Mozzie likes cartoons?" The goal is not to get an answer to her question. Or rather: it is, but she doesn't expect Neal to give her a direct one.

"Loves them." The sound from the TV is faint, barely audible. "Big fan of the Cartoon Network."

"I'd have thought CNN would be more up his alley." If there's anything Mozzie loves almost as much as conspiracy theories, it's information. "Too prejudiced?"

"Too heavily censored by the government." Neal grins and Kate catches herself before she grins back.

Neal always makes it too easy. "So how come you're not as paranoid as he is?"

"How come _you_ aren't?" Except when he's making it difficult, returning a question for a question.

"I don't know." She wants to say it's because she and Mozzie aren't close, the way Neal and Mozzie are, but that's not the right answer. Mozzie and Neal are close, and she and Neal are close, when they're not on a job, and yet they're nothing alike at all. "Tell me."

Neal smiles and shakes his head, and then some tune or another starts playing on the TV, and Kate is left alone in the kitchen, wondering what it is about cartoons and grown men.

 

The key, Kate decides after three months and Samantha, Lisa, Joanne and Iris, is choice.

When Neal goes through the process of wooing a mark, he's manipulating them. It's not really calculated, or even entirely fake - it's simply Neal being Neal. Being a great con artist. Loving someone and making them love him back. Neal doesn't leave any other options open when he's on a job; he falls in love and he drags the other person right down with him. They can't _not_ fall.

Kate could, though. She could pack up and leave, and even if it would break her heart, she'd get over it eventually. Neal's not her entire world; he's just a rather pretty and attractive part of it.

True love, to Neal, is leaving someone the freedom to walk away.


End file.
